A Sucker's Bet
by ilovetvalot
Summary: She was immersed in a hades of her own making...TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

_**Prompts for this story were, JJ/Morgan, hot chocolate, ice skating, a bet, Elton John, a boat and a prison.**_

**A Sucker's Bet**

**Chapter One**

It was official.

She was trapped in a hell of her own making.

Leaning her aching back against the leather headrest, she sank deeper into the bucket seat on the passenger side of Derek Morgan's SUV. At this point, she wasn't certain which horrendous torture was worse regarding her decision to rejoin the BAU's team as a profiler.

Was it being forced to listen to Derek's off key rendition of Elton John's "Bennie and the Jets" for the last half hour of their ride back to DC? Or, had it been being trapped in the holding cell of the prison with serial killer, Paul Hanson, listening to his gruesome recollections of murdering fourteen women and dismembering their bodies on his boat?

Endurance, thy name be Jennifer Jareau.

Grimacing as Morgan's deep voice attempted to reach an unfortunately high note, JJ squeezed her eyes shut as she swallowed a sip of her hot chocolate. Less caffeine than coffee, but just enough to keep her from praying for a mercifully quick death.

Or maybe she should just give in and head straight to the great beyond now. Caffeine could only go so far, you know.

"What's your problem over there, Special Agent Jareau?" Derek asked in a sing-song tone, offering his profiling partner in crime a sidelong glance.

Clearing her throat, JJ cracked on eyelid to look at her mentor of the day. "Just wondering when you developed a fascination with Elton John," she commented, carefully keeping all form of judgment from her voice.

"Are you kidding me, Pretty Girl?" Derek asked, affronted as he swiveled his head completely in her direction. "Listen, anybody that can rock a pair of shades as well as my Sweetness is alright in my book."

"I see," JJ forced out, turning her head to stare out the window to hide her wince as Derek resumed what she felt like must be the fortieth chorus of the song since the drive had commenced over an hour ago. "Morgan," JJ said, interrupting his passionate rendition, "do you think we could listen to one of his more popular songs?" she asked hopefully.

"More popular?" Derek snorted, rolling his eyes. "This IS Elton's most popular jam, Jayje. Bennie and the Jets is classic!"

"As true as that may be, I'm pretty sure it isn't the song that catapulted him to icon status," JJ disagreed as Derek flipped on his blinker, passing yet another semi on the crowded highway.

"Care to place a friendly wager on that little piece of trivia?" Derek smirked, raising a challenging brow as he glanced at his companion. Tossing the CD case into her lap, he continued, "That there," he said, gesturing at the case, "has every single one of Elton's hits for the past twenty years. I dare you to find one that's more popular," he defied her, arching a dark brow.

Glancing down at the jacket of the CD carrier, JJ snorted. "Pick one," she muttered as she shrugged. "Candle in the Wind...Your Song... Can You Feel..."

"You pick one," he ordered, smoothly passing a lagging Ford Taurus as he merged onto the interstate.

"Fine," JJ conceded, tapping her finger against the silver CD. "Candle in the Wind."

"Alright, Miss SmartyPants, name your terms," he goaded with a smug grin as he waved a hand in the air between them. "Anything you want."

"Oh really," JJ drawled, raising her eyebrows and turning slightly in her seat. "Anything?" she asked for clarification, well aware of Derek Morgan's penchant to change the rules mid-stream. His bets and wagers with Spencer were legendary, and Spence was still smarting from the last encounter when Morgan had managed to finagle a win on a so-called technicality…which was that Reid didn't have anything in writing to verify the exact procedures and Derek would not allow Reid's eidetic memory to be included into the official record.

"No skin off my nose," Derek stated, obviously unconcerned at JJ's hesitation. "Won't matter to me. You ain't winnin' anyway," he taunted.

Oh, this was like taking candy from a baby, JJ thought happily. So, he wanted her to name the stakes, did he? "You know you're awfully sure of yourself. Some might even say you look a little bit arrogant. Are you sure you wanna make this bet, Derek?" JJ asked, almost perversely eager to wipe that conceited smile off his lips.

"Oh, that ain't arrogance, baby. What you see right now is confidence," he chuckled, propping one elbow on the car door. "But if you're gettin' cold feet..."

"Oh, my toesies are nice and toasty." JJ shook her head as she crossed her legs. "I just wanted to make sure you were positive before I anted up."

Derek nodded as he snickered. "It's go time, girl."

"Fine." JJ nodded amenably. "First, if I win, we get to change the stereo to whatever I want to hear."

"Is that all?" Derek grunted in disgust. "Child's play." He shook his head as he clucked in disappointment.

Knowing she had him hooked, JJ hid a smile behind her cup as she took another sip of her hot chocolate. "Oh, so you wanna up the ante...Okay," she said agreeably, "Well, there's this ice-skating party in the park that Henry wants to go to this weekend and I'm really not looking forward to it," she began, keeping her voice hesitant.

"Hell, I'm from Chicago, JJ," Derek replied as he rolled his eyes. "Ice skating is in my blood." He shrugged as he offered magnanimously, "No problem. I'll escort the little mini-you."

"You're sure?" JJ raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't look favorably on my son's Uncle Derek disappointing him," she warned, adjusting her seatbelt over her chest.

"Positive," Derek replied, clearly unworried. He had this in the proverbial freakin' bag.

"Okay." JJ smiled sweetly. "What do you want if you win?" she asked evenly, completely secure in the knowledge that this was one wager the great Derek Morgan was going to lose.

"Hmmm, what do I want?" Derek drawled, tapping a finger against his lips. Snapping his fingers a moment later, he grinned. "When I win..."

JJ laughed as she swatted at his arm. "Don't you mean, "if"?"

"Oh, no," Derek said with a haughty smile, "I mean when. When I win, you have to give every man in the BAU a kiss. _With _tongue."

"Ewwww!" JJ frowned, rolling her eyes. "That's disgusting, Derek!" she scowled, shuddering at the thought of being forced to French kiss men that she mostly considered brothers. "You really are a hound dog!" she accused.

"It's meant to teach you a lesson," Derek said superiorly, narrowing one eye. "You don't bet against the master."

"Fine," she declared tersely, privately thinking that watching him lose was going to be one of the sweetest victories she'd tasted in a long time. "So would you like to dial the oracle, or shall I?" JJ asked, dangling her cell phone between her fingers.

"Call 'er. Put it on speaker phone. I wanna hear this," Derek said, his tone oozing smug delight.

Rolling her eyes, JJ tapped the phone with one finger, dropping it in the center console as she waited for Garcia's perky voice to greet them.

Neither of them had to wait long.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Sucker's Bet**

**Chapter Two**

"H'llo, my pretties," Garcia's animated voice greeted them, "How may the Goddess of the Cyberworld assist you this fine afternoon? I thought you guys were on the way home?"

"We are, Mama," Derek's deep voice announced.

"Why, hello there, Studalicious!"

"Hey, baby," Derek replied with a widening grin. "Think you could do me a favor, Sweetness?" he requested, his voice pure velvet as he spoke to the woman on the other end of the line.

"Us," JJ corrected quickly, throwing a frown at Morgan. "Do us a favor, Garcia?" she interrupted, joining the conversation.

"Gumdrop!" Garcia smiled, spinning in her desk chair. "You keeping the tail of the Tiger firmly in hand?" she asked playfully.

"Don't I wish," JJ sighed, glancing at Derek. "Trust me, Garcie. You're the only one capable of achieving that feat."

"Nice, JJ," Derek huffed as he shifted lanes, passing a mini-van with an "I Believe in Bigfoot" sign in the back window. "I've been completely cooperative this trip."

"You're a radio Nazi," JJ retorted, motioning toward the stereo system for evidence.

"Children," Garcia sang out, "Behave yourselves or I'll report your vehicle stolen."

"He started it," JJ complained, looking down at the phone. "Seriously, Garcie, how do you put up with and his musical taste?"

"Ah, so you're being treated to Elton's greatest hits, huh?" Penelope replied sympathetically. "I feel ya."

"Hey!" Derek interjected indignantly. "Don't be dissin' a musical God."

"See what I mean?" JJ groaned out loud.

"Sorry, Peaches. I never would have suspected it either had I not witnessed the anomaly firsthand myself," Garcia commiserated, propping her chin on her hand as she gazed down at the telephone on her desk.

"Okay, you two," Derek grumbled. "JJ and I made a bet, Baby Girl," he stated, determined to move to the main topic at hand. "And we're hoping you can settle it for us."

"And there's quite a lot riding on the line, Garcie," JJ added, offering Derek a sidelong glance as she tried to control her twitching lips.

"Oh? Do tell," Garcia ordered, her eyes twinkling.

"What did you bet, my Mocha flavored teddy bear?" Garcia asked curiously.

"Well, if she wins, which she _won't_," Derek replied determinedly, "I have to take your godson to some ice skating party this weekend."

"The one in the park?" Garcia choked, her eyes widening as she stared at the phone, unable to believe her love monkey had agreed to such a thing.

"That's the _one_, Garcia," JJ cut in, silently willing her best friend to remain silent regarding the details regarding that particular event. She was going to enjoy herself immensely when she finished filling in the pompous ass beside her as to his obligations."

"Uh huh," Garcia chirped, trying to quell her laughter. "And what were your stakes, Agent Tall, Dark, and Delish?"

"If I win," Derek offered silkily, "she has to French Kiss every guy on our team."

Jaw dropping, Penelope shook her head. "Seriously? You agreed to that, Buttercup?" she asked. Damn, her girl must really be sure of herself. Derek rarely lost a gamble.

"Oh, I agreed." JJ nodded, watching another road sign pass by her window as Elton continued singing in the background. "Oh, and I get to choose the music for the rest of the ride home, too."

Clearing her throat, Garcia straightened. "So what do you two kindred souls need the diva to do?"

"We need you to tell us which one of Elton John's songs was more popular. Benny and the Jets..." Derek began.

"...or Candle in the Wind," JJ supplied calmly, drumming her fingers against the car door.

"Alrighty!" Garcia nodded, cracking her knuckles. "Let Mama Bear work her magic, kiddies," she intoned, smiling as she tapped on the keyboard of her computer. "We have a winner!" she announced less than thirty seconds later.

Derek nodded, completely convinced he was entirely right. "I bet we do."

"Garcia, would you kindly slam your self-proclaimed Stud Muffin back into place?" JJ replied pleasantly as she shifted in the leather seat.

Giggling, Garcia nodded. "Well, after careful consideration I'm afraid the Gumdrop walks away the winner on t his one, Hot Stuff."

"What!" Derek gaped, slamming on the brakes suddenly.

Extending an arm to brace herself against the dashboard, JJ glared darkly at the irritated driver of their vehicle. "Hey! I'd like to get home alive, Derek!"

"I demand a recount," he yelped, pulling over on the shoulder of the road to glower at the cell phone situated between him and JJ.

"Checked three separate websites, my lovely. Benny and the Jets rates at least fifth on every chart I found. You lose, Mr. Machismo."

"Well, I'll be," JJ mocked, fishing her bag from the floorboard and smoothly pulling out her own CD selection. Sliding her disc into the SUV's player, JJ smiled as a rousing rendition of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" filled the cab.

His handsome face contorting in disgust, Derek turned his horrified gaze toward JJ. "What in the _hell_ is this crap?" This crazy ass woman thought this shit was an improvement over Elton? What kind of planet did she live on?

"Well," JJ said with a slow smile, "If I were you, I'd consider it research. Isn't that right, Penelope?"

"'Fraid so," Penelope chirped, her statement distinctly unapologetic.

"But to clarify, what you are currently listening to is The Wiggles Greatest Hits, my friend. You should get familiar with them and luckily for you, I have two more albums in my purse," JJ informed him cheerfully.

Dismayed, Derek blinked in response as a slow forbidding shiver shimmied down his spine. "Why?" he asked hesitantly.

"Why?" JJ echoed innocently.

"Yeah," Derek asked as the revolting music played merrily on. "Why?"

"Fun fact about that little ice skating soiree that you volunteered for," JJ said, holding up a finger to her lips. "Turns out, it might be a little bigger than what you probably anticipated when you initially agreed."

"How big?" Derek asked suspiciously as Garcia cackled over the still open connection.

"What do you think Garcia?" JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

More clicking ensued and Derek frowned at the phone. "What exactly is she looking up?" he asked JJ, his unease growing with every passing second.

Merely smiling as Garcia's ever enthusiastic voice chirped enthusiastically, JJ waited

"According to the paper this morning, the park official expects approximately five hundred little darlings to be present and accounted for!"

"_What_?" Derek gasped. "Five hundred three foot wonders running around the ice? What the hell did I sign on for, Jareau?"

"The Wiggles in the Park," JJ informed him with a wide smile. "A live concert followed by ice skating. This," she said, indicating the stereo, "should adequately prepare you. Henry likes for us to know all the words so we can sing along."

And as the laughter of two women filled his ears in between that infernal noise that dared to be labeled as music, Derek Morgan stared glumly ahead.

This was gonna be one long ass ride back to D.C.

_**Finis**_


End file.
